Intuition
by nicholas7
Summary: When Snape is enlisted to mold a current student into a successful spy, he is left to question his own motives and endurance. AU to Books 6 & 7.


"You must be joking, Albus."

Severus Snape stood, his back to one of seven black bookcases, with an expression of tight-lipped disbelief.

Dumbledore's gaze did not leave the frosted window, moving slowly from the darkened grounds, upwards, to meet the star lit sky. His hands rested gently at the base of his abdomen, palms crossed to reveal fingers scarred with age.

"Killingsworth's passing leaves me little choice, Severus. It is vital we hold a connection to one whose family remains in close relation to Voldemort."

Outside, constellations burned an incandescent white, shone in contrast to honeyed gold of clustered candles. For a brief moment, a silvered tip of the headmaster's beard clung to the misted pane.

"She belongs to one of the few documented ancient wizarding families that have retained their status, and preserved their wealth." Turning now to the stairs leading to his desk, he sighed, sadly. "And do not forget, Severus, that these children are his most treasured possessions! In his mind, she is one of the Adones, one who will restore the wizarding world to its former numbers."

Sensing his grief, a chipped tea-cup and rusted kettle staggered forward, pausing to pour a steady flow of boiling water. Within the cup's shallow depth, a ball of green began to bloom.

"Thank you," he whispered, softly. With a nod, the kettle spun half circle, retreating back a few steps to wait until needed.

"In short, we must endeavor to gain one that he needs-" Pausing, he lifted the cup to his lips.

"- and not only trusts temporarily. I've no doubt he will begin soon to train and, perhaps, even confide in them."

Snape opened his mouth to retort, but Dumbledore raised a hand.

"While Mr. Malfoy lies within a similar category, the incident in the Department of Mysteries I fear, leaves us no other choice but to seek out other options."

Severus, nostrils still flared, stared hard as the tendrils of steam melded with the curling smoke of candles. Abruptly he straightened, turning away.

"I've no time to twiddle my thumbs and take care of yet another brat! First Potter, then Malfoy – where will it end?" He began to pace, back and forth, fists clenched, becoming further agitated.

"This is no place for a child, Albus! She will not survive another _second_ of her miserable life should the Dark Lord ascertain her to be any less than faithful."

"Pureblood-" he spat, eyes narrowing at the implication, "-or not."

Dumbledore set the cup back down. "I will take over Harry's lessons' for the time being. And I think," he said, peering above his spectacles, "you may find Miss Cinis to surprise even the likes of you."

"You really are serious."

Snape shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the absurdity, the sheer absurdity of it all.

"No. Even with minimized contact, the Dark Lord would know." An ugly smirk spread across his face, and a hoarse chuckle soon followed.

"Teenagers! Overabundant idealisms, uncontrollable emotions - any idiot Occlumens would know, instantaneously, whatever it is they're thinking! They are the absolute worst, the least well suited -"

"Yet, you were hardly past your adolescence at the time."

"You know perfectly well I was the exception for... for..." He paused, trying to maintain his composure. "... numerous reasons," he snarled finally. "You present me, now, with a girl who has no dedication to the cause, who has lived a life of the utmost - privileged, indulgence - and infer a comparison!"

"Severus." Dumbledore rose from behind his desk, coming to stand several feet away from Snape.

"Do not think I have made this decision on an old man's foolish whim," he stated, pointedly. "He will use the Cinis family for their political influence, monetary support, and –"

He stopped, thoughtful. " - their ancestral trade."

Snape halted mid-pace at this last remark, and fisted hands rearranged themselves defiantly, crossing against his chest.

Drifting past the glaring figure, Dumbledore moved instead towards Fawke's unruffled form. "Ingenious, really, the incorporation of magic to influence a spider's instinct." As he paused, watching fondly the mound of fire, pink eyelids lifted slowly upwards in casual affirmation of quiet attention.

"That one may interfere in nature's creation for our own purposes is however, not to be taken lightly," he murmured. "While for now, the product remains a fine cloak, I worry Voldemort might envision further potential in the practice."

Snape had come to stand on the opposite side of the Phoenix's perch, eyes fixed on the headmaster's bowed face.

"Am I correct in interpreting these… _declarations_ to be…" He raised his eyebrows, sneeringly. "Thinly veiled comments on my research?"

Dumbledore reached out to caress the bird, letting his fingers move gently down Fawkes' feathered breast.

"Your current experiments deal primarily with permanent alteration of the human form," he replied. "What I am trying to say, Severus, is that we must be prepared to recognize and deal with advances on numerous levels."

He raised his eyes, crystal blue piercing a roughened coal surface, and a smile flickered briefly across his weathered face.

"At least meet the girl."

A subtle flick of his wand, and enormous curtains began to unfurl from overhead, sending small ripples throughout the room in their descent.

"That is," he added, "if you have not already booked a weekend's evenings worth of detentions."

Snape made a noncommittal snort, and strode back towards the office entrance.


End file.
